Empress Game: The Empress Game Trilogy Book 1 (17 page)

“Now? Same plan as always, I suppose.”

“That’s it? That’s all you have? Princess Tia’tan will be impossible to defeat with her Wyrd training and psi powers.”

No kidding.

“What do you want me to say, Ardin?” Malkor pushed a hand through his hair. “It’s not like we can just ask the Wyrds to leave. Did your aides find out anything?”

Ardin shook his head. “They’ve been burning through datapads reading the Rights of Succession since the Wyrds showed up. There’s no stipulation against a princess from a nation outside of the empire competing in the Game. It wasn’t an issue before.”

“Surely there’s some rule we can exploit to get them disqualified,” Isonde said. She looked as well put together as always, despite the crisis.

“If there was a way to bend the rules of the Rights of Succession to meet our own needs,” Ardin said, “my aides would have found it a year ago and we would already be married.”

The tiny voice of the fountain filled the gap Ardin’s words opened in the room. Kayla caught both the buried longing in the prince’s tone and the glance Isonde shot Malkor’s way.

Malkor ignored both, all business. “What about their psi powers? There’s no precedent. Can we get them classified as unsanctioned weapons, or some kind of inequitable advantage?”

“Can we prove that they intend to use their powers in the tournament?” Isonde asked.

“Why wouldn’t they?”

She shrugged. “Maybe they also think it’s unfair to the other contestants and don’t plan to use them. Then again, how would we know if they did?”

“That’s why they should be disqualified,” Ardin argued. “There’s no way to tell.”

“What, and accuse them of cheating before the Game even starts? Talk about a political nightmare.” Isonde tapped two fingers on the table. “We could probably get their powers classified as unsanctioned weapons, for the matches at least. That’s the best we can do. We’ll have to
hope
they agree not to use them.”

Kayla couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “The Wyrds didn’t come all this way to lose.”

“I’m not sure if they
can
use their powers in the middle of a fight,” Malkor said. “All of the IDC received a rudimentary lesson on the Wyrds from Master Dolan before the whole Ordoch… situation. He explained that it took some concentration to use their psi powers on other people. He gave us a crash course on forming the outer layer of the mental shield-things the Wyrds normally have. He said they would be sufficient to protect us during a skirmish.”

True. The effort required also increased with the target’s shield sophistication or in some cases, sheer force of will. A powerful sense of self could be just as hard to overcome as constructed defenses. One problem, though.

“Princess Tia’tan might not use her powers while fighting,” Kayla said. “There are, however, at least three other Wyrds in attendance who will not be similarly distracted.”

“Just the three others,” Malkor said. “Dolan confirmed it.”

“And two of them males. They’ll have been chosen specifically for the strength of their psi powers.” While the difference wasn’t so marked outside of the ruling class, within the royal houses of Wyrd nations the men were traditionally stronger psionics.

The others all turned to stare at her.

Damn. Did the IDC know that? “That’s the going rumor, isn’t it?” Surely Dolan had told them.

“Yes, but…”

Malkor leaned forward, his eyes full of questions. She waved off any inquiry with a sharp motion of her hand. “The Game complex is ablaze with rumors about the Wyrds. I’ve also heard they suck the life from their victims with a stare and can levitate objects.” That was a no and a yes. “Surely some of it is based in fact.”

Malkor’s intent stare promised a reckoning later that she wouldn’t be able to escape. Fabulous. Fobbing him off with a story of rumors would be impossible. Maybe she could avoid him—for the rest of her time on Falanar.

“How do we combat them?” Isonde asked.

Ardin sighed. “We can’t.”

“We’re back to the same plan,” Malkor said, gaze still on Kayla. “Lady Evelyn wins the Game. Wyrd or no Wyrd.”

* * *

If Kayla could have slipped away from the others and returned alone to the Game complex she would have.

No such luck.

When Isonde and Ardin turned the conversation to the political machinations from last night, Malkor listened for about five minutes before standing.

“I’ll leave the council plans to you two. Lady Evelyn? Perhaps you could accompany me back.”

Kayla didn’t know who disliked the idea more, she or Isonde. The princess’s lips compressed into a thin line. Isonde opened her mouth but one look at Malkor had her closing it without a word. She nodded as if he needed her permission.

Apprehension coiled itself in Kayla’s midsection. “Maybe I should—”

“You can catch up later. I’m sure you want to check in on your brother.”

Trapped. She could hardly say, “You go on, I’ll just check on him later,” and Malkor knew it.

She rose, fussing with her skirts, stalling as if that would save her from the inquisition. All it did was buy time for her anxiety to rise.

He led the way to their waiting hover car. They climbed inside and the weight of the door sealing shut locked them in. Silence lay thick in the metal cocoon. He gave their direction to the navbot, then kept his gaze ahead, seeming to study Falanar’s towering architecture, but she felt his focus on her.

Did she want his questions now, while she couldn’t escape but there was a time-limit on their conversation, or later, an ambush at a time of his choosing?

The silence congealed, stilling her lips when she might have spoken, holding her limbs in place to avoid a disturbing rustle of fabric. He was similarly still and they rode like statues, the air tense and tight between them. Already she imagined his voice in his head.

Who are you? Why are you hiding? Who are you hiding from?

Questions she couldn’t answer.

Answers that had kept her prisoner for years.

Secrets that, so easily buried in private, now wanted to burst from her skin at the tentative friendship from another.

Freedom.

She wanted it.

She didn’t fear his questions. She feared herself.

The hover car delivered them to the Game pavilion and the steps of her building. They rode the maglift to her floor without conversation, everything not said dragging behind them. When she would have walked right past her door to the IDC wing beyond, he stopped her with a hand on her arm.

“I need to talk to you.”

“I know.” She looked at her door. If she stepped inside but blocked the entrance with her body, would he let the door slide shut between them?

“Now.”

“My brother—”

“You checked in on him right before we left and Rigger has been with him the whole time. He’s safe. He’s probably having more fun than the two of us combined.”

Despite the situation, she chuckled. “Likely three times as much, if Rigger really is letting him modify the hologram.”

“No putting this off then.” He still had his hand on her arm, and a determined look that didn’t bode well. “Don’t make me wait outside all day.”

“Fine.” She thumbed the print scanner, then scanned her lithodisc ID bracelet. Malkor entered after her. He didn’t step any farther into the room and she stopped somewhere in the middle, waiting.

He studied her across the space, his gaze tracing her features.

“Who are you?” he finally asked.

“You know who I am.”

“No. I know who you pretend to be.”

“That’s all that there is.” Was it? Had she become Shadow Panthe in truth? What did she do with her life but fight in the pit?

“There’s more.” He watched her with those gray eyes, impatient but implacable. He wouldn’t be leaving without answers.

“I have nothing else.” That was certainly true. “I fight for credits on Altair Tri and I keep my brother safe.”

“From whom?”

“Everyone.”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“Damnit, Shadow.”

The title irked her.

Really
irked her. Scratched at her skin in a raw spot.

“You can leave any time,” she said.

He took a step toward her. “I’m staying until I get my answers. If I have to camp out by the door, so be it.”

“Isonde won’t like that.”

“To the void with her.” He took another step. “Tell me.”

Kayla shook her head.

They stared at each other, their breaths linked, each tense and ready. She got lost somewhere in the silent fight, her mind telling her “keep silent,” over and over while she wrestled the sweet urge to lay her burden on someone else.

“You’re Wyrd, aren’t you.”

She couldn’t even scoff with the breath caught in her throat. He had bluffed, guessed wildly. He couldn’t know. They wouldn’t be standing here like this if he knew.

“How could I be?”

“I don’t know. I don’t even think it’s possible.” His hand ran a furrow through his hair. “No Wyrd vessels have been detected entering Imperial Space since the first series of contacts generations ago, excepting Dolan’s.”

“There you have it.”

“But it’s true, isn’t it, Shadow?”

“You just told me it couldn’t be.” She tightened a hand in the hidden fold of her dress. Stars, this was worse than she feared.

“I used to think you were a spy of some sort. Working for someone high up, maybe even someone in the Council of Seven. That you were stationed on Altair Tri for some deep mission, or hidden there while a situation cooled down. Even your obvious fear of Dolan could be rationalized if you were working against him. He’s a powerful man in the empire now.”

“I do not fear the
kin’shaa
.” Venom crept into her voice on the last word.

Malkor snapped his fingers, the sound ricocheting. “There. See? You know things.”

“That’s what he is.”

“I know that. The Ordochians revealed that to us. But how do
you
know that? And for that matter, how do you know being a
kin’shaa
makes him worthy of reviling?”

This time she hoped her scoff sounded believable. “Corinth got bored on the ship. He cracked your file archives.”

“No. Your response was too authentic. Too automatic.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I? What about the rest? The knowledge of the Ordoch situation? Of male Wyrds in the royal family being stronger psionics than the females?”

“Haven’t you read the IDC files?”

“What about Corinth,” he pressed. “I’ve seen you with him. I know he talks to you. Somehow he communicates.”

“You couldn’t—”

“What about his technical knowledge? Sure, he’s bright, but he’s a kid living in a swamp. Where did he get his advanced understanding? He knows more than Rigger does.”

“He likes to study.”

“Stop playing with me, Shadow.”

“That’s not my name!”

Her breath tore chunks from the silence that followed her outburst. Frutt. Frutt her pride and frutt Malkor for pushing her.

“I know that,” he said softly after a minute.

She needed to sit. Life spun while she took two steps and sank onto the nearest couch.

“You’re so much more than who you pretend to be, why do you want me to keep believing the lie?”

She leaned her head back against the couch, eyes closing, and felt him settle beside her. She needed more strength to withstand this onslaught than she had today, after the shock of the Ilmenans’ betrayal.

“I’m just a woman fighting in a tournament for you.”

“Your identity could endanger our plan.”

She opened her eyes and found him close. “My anonymity worked just fine for you before.”

He took a breath, clearly forcing himself to patience. “You can trust me with this.”

“Why?”

“My life is in your hands. Isonde’s as well. You have enough evidence of our intent to fix the Empress Game to have us both executed. You know cheating at the Game is considered treason.” He held himself so still beside her, as if any movement would set her to flight. “What more do you need from me?”

I need you not to be IDC. I need you not to have possibly been involved in the death of my family.

“Don’t make me find out some other way.”

He would, too. Now that he suspected, he would hunt the information down. Corinth was a popular name on Ordoch but he couldn’t know that. They wouldn’t have a population database of her homeworld. All he’d find is the Corinth on record with the royal family. That coupled with their secrecy would be all he needed.

“Kayla,” she finally said. The name was rusty, her lips having abandoned it for years. “Kayla Reinumon.”

“Reinumon? But you’re—”

“Dead? So we learned.” Corinth had found that official report buried amid the files he’d cracked on Ardin’s starcruiser.

“Your bodies were identified after the incident, confirmed by Dolan.”

“And you had no DNA profile of us to compare a scan to,” she added.

“I thought the entire family… Holy shit.”

A shudder ripped through her. Pain and relief. A heartbreak of freedom from silence so deep she couldn’t breathe.

Malkor put a tentative hand on her shoulder.

Vayne. Corinth. Two lives, past and present. She drew the edges of her soul together until it finally merged. Vayne-and-Corinth.

The world settled on her once more, but lighter this time. She was distanced from it, floating almost, released from the anchor of her secret. She was free.

“Kayla.”

She wanted to laugh at the sound of her name. Ask him to say it again.

It was a beautiful name.

Where did they stand now, now that he knew her identity?

“How did you escape the coup?” he asked.

She let the unanswerable questions lie. “It’s mostly a haze. I remember—” she cut herself off. Did she? Did she even want to? She and Corinth never spoke of that night, never shared their memories of what it felt to have each of their twins die, and their family, their whole life, taken from them. It had been enough to know the other felt it. But now? She needed to expel the words that had built up at his question. The memory had risen and she couldn’t get rid of it any other way.